


The Children of The Green Arrow

by realityisoverrated



Series: Infinite Love [211]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Kidnapping, M/M, Mystery, Polyamory, Polyfidelity, Smoaking billionaires, Threats of Violence, Threats of Violence to Children, Toliver, flommy, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:26:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23570791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realityisoverrated/pseuds/realityisoverrated
Summary: Oliver, Felicity, and Tommy have gone away on a romantic long weekend and left Bobby in charge of his younger siblings. Things are going well up until the moment they are taken at gunpoint. Team Arrow and the Justice League race to find the children before the trail goes cold.
Relationships: Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, Tommy Merlyn/Felicity Smoak, Tommy Merlyn/Oliver Queen, Tommy Merlyn/Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak
Series: Infinite Love [211]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/381805
Comments: 142
Kudos: 184





	1. Bobby

**Author's Note:**

> This story depicts a polyamorous relationship between one woman and two men. If this is not something you are interested in, please stop and go no further.
> 
> I started this multi chapter fic a long time ago. I've shared pieces of it in the comments of earlier installments and promised it's arrival. The day has finally come. 
> 
> This installment is 203/211. The chronological list for the series, with hyperlinks, can be found at  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/11051019
> 
> Welcome to any new readers. The more the merrier.

Original Photograph by Ashkela

“Bobby, wake up. Please, Bobby, wake up.”

Bobby heard Becca’s frightened voice calling to him as if she were a mile away. He was aware that someone was shaking him, probably Becca, but he couldn’t get his eyes to open or his limbs to cooperate. His ears seemed to be working so he reached out with the only sense left to him. Someone was moving around.

A pounding on a door was accompanied by Becca’s loud voice, “Let us go. You have no idea who you’re messing with.”

“Becks,” Bobby rasped.

“Oh, thank god,” Becca said breathlessly as she took her brother’s hand. “I thought they killed you.”

Bobby tried to remember. The last memory he had was of holding a lecture at SCU. “What happened?” he asked as he struggled to open his eyes.

“Men broke into the house. They had guns,” Becca held Bobby’s hand so tightly his bones rubbed together.

Images of the garden windows shattering as he sat at the kitchen table with his siblings flashed through his mind. His parents had gone away for the weekend and had left him in charge of his siblings. “Nate. Prue,” he called out to the twins who remained uncharacteristically quiet.

Becca let out a sob, “They’re not here.”

Bobby’s eyes flew open as his body flooded with adrenaline, “Where are they?”

“I don’t know,” Becca said with distress. “I thought I heard Prue screaming, but I don’t know if I was dreaming.”

“Help me up,” he instructed.

Becca wrapped her arms around his chest and pulled, “God, your heavy.” She managed to get him upright and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

Bobby squeezed his eyes closed as a wave of dizziness washed over him, “How long have I been out?”

“I don’t know,” she looked at him with concern. “I don’t think they were expecting any of us to put up much of a fight. They shot you with several tranq darts.”

If their abductors didn’t expect the Smoak children to be able to defend themselves, they clearly had no idea they were abducting the children of the Green Arrow. His vision cleared enough to lift his head and survey their surroundings. They were in a large, expensively decorated bedroom with two four poster beds. There were six windows, all of which had bars. It was dark outside. He nodded to one of the doors, “Closet?”

She shook her head, “That’s the bathroom. Bars on the windows in there too.” Becca pointed to another door, “That’s the closet and that,” she pointed again, “is the way out. The door is heavy and deadbolted.”

“Find anything useful?” he asked, trying to be productive while his body recovered.

“I didn’t find a key, if that’s what you’re asking.” At his unamused look, she said, “I’ve gone through all the drawers, closets and cabinets. I didn’t find anything that could be used to pick the locks. Bobby?”

The tone of her voice made his stomach flip, “What?”

“The drawers and closet are full of clothing in our sizes. The bathroom has all my favorite products, yours too. Whoever took us, knows us, and plans on us staying awhile.”

Bobby’s brain began to whirl. Whoever took them might not have left them scissors or a nail file to use as a lock pick, but he might be able to put together an improvised explosive device with the products in the bathroom. He lifted an arm towards his sister, “Help me to the bathroom.”

Becca ducked her shoulder beneath his and pulled him to his feet. “I’m not helping take off your pants,” she teased. “If you’ve got to go, you’ll need to figure it out.”

He sighed, “Just take me to the bathroom.”

At sixteen, Becca was 5’10” and didn’t struggle much under the weight of her 6’1” nineteen-year-old brother. “Who do you think took us?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “Someone with a lot of money.”

Becca flipped on the bathroom light and lowered him to the toilet seat. “What do you want me to show you?”

“Everything,” he said looking around the marble bathroom with a large shower stall and separate soaking tub. Their prison was a gilded one.

Becca knelt in front of the sink and began pulling supplies from the cabinet and lining them up on the floor in front of her brother. She started reading the ingredients on the labels.

A familiar voice echoed through the bathroom, “Bobby? Becca? Is that you?”

Bobby was instantly on his feet. He stood up on the edge of the tub and spoke into the vent, “Prue?”

“Bobby,” Prue said with relief. “Is Becca with you?”

“I’m here,” Becca spoke for herself as she held her brother’s hips to keep him from slipping. “Is Nate with you?”

“He’s here, but he hasn’t woken up. He’s got a cut on his head. I’m really worried.” Prue’s fears were clear in the wobble of her voice.

Bobby eyed the vent. It was too small for him to crawl through, but his seventy-five pound, 5’0” little sister shouldn’t have any trouble fitting inside. He just needed to figure out how to open the exchange. “Prue, can you reach the vent you’re talking into?” His sister wasn’t tall enough to reach it standing on the edge of the tub like he was. She’d need to use some of her parkour and gymnastic capabilities to reach the vent.

Prue was silent for a moment. “Yeah, I can reach the vent,” her voice sounded closer.

“Once I figure out how to open the vent, I’ll tell you how to open it on your end,” Bobby told his little sister.

“I’m working on the third screw now,” Prue informed him.

“How? Did they leave you a nail file or a pair of scissors?” he asked as he pointed to the medicine cabinet.

Becca shook her head, “I looked.”

“I’m wearing my push-up bra,” she said simply.

Bobby honestly had no idea what his sister’s bra had to do with anything. He’d never even thought about his sisters having breasts.

“Brilliant,” Becca said.

He turned around to see that Becca had pulled both of her arms inside of her shirt and they were moving around. Her arms popped back out and she held out her bra in triumph, “Underwire.”

Bobby took the bra from his sister and tore the fabric until he could remove the underwire. He dropped the bra to the ground and attempted to loosen the screw with the flattened wire. When the screw moved, he smiled, “Prue, you are remarkable.”

“Don’t yell,” she said. “I’m right here.”

If Becca wasn’t holding his waist, Bobby probably would’ve fallen. His little sister’s eyes were staring at him from behind the vent. “Maybe dads should call you Speedy,” Bobby said as he removed the first screw.

“I already had the underwire out when I tried to pick the locked door in our room,” Prue informed him.

Bobby turned and gave Becca a pointed look.

“What?” Becca asked. “I never consciously think about wearing my bra.” When he continued to stare at her she asked, “Would you think of your underwear as an asset?”

“That’s okay, Becks,” Prue spoke as quickly as their mom. “I only thought of it because this is the first bra I’ve ever had with underwire. I didn’t think mommy would let me get a push-up bra since I don’t have anything to push-up. So when I was thinking about what was in the room I could use to pick a lock, boom, I thought of my bra.”

Bobby removed the last screw and pulled the grate out of the wall and handed it to Becca. He’d never been so happy to see his little sister’s smile. She had a layer of grime on her face and a cut on her lip. “Stop talking about your boobs,” he said with a grin. “You’re too young to have boobs.”

“I’m thirteen,” she informed him as she extended her arms out through the opening.

“I still don’t want to hear about yours,” Bobby groused good-naturedly.

“Beck’s lucky,” Prue wrapped her arms around Bobby’s neck, “she got Grandma Donna’s boobs.”

He glared at Prue, “I don’t want to hear about Becca’s or Grandma’s either.” He put his hands beneath her armpits, “Ready? I’m going to pull.”

“Go ahead,” Prue said.

Bobby stepped out of the tub and pulled Prue with him. She slid right out of the vent and into his arms. She did her typical spider monkey hug and wrapped her legs around his chest. He held her small frame in his arms and buried his nose in her hair, “Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?”

“I’m fine,” she said holding her big brother tightly. “Nate’s face is covered in bruises and he’s got a big bump on his head. What if he’s in a coma?”

“He’s not in a coma,” Bobby hoped he wasn’t lying as he sat Prue on the edge of the sink. He grabbed a hand towel and dampened it. He gently wiped the grime from her face. As the grime disappeared, a large bruise became visible. He realized that her lip had been split by a strike to her face, “Someone hit you.”

She shrugged and her eyes twinkled, “Well, I did hit him first.”

“I don’t think Nate will be able to fit through this when he wakes up,” Becca said from her perch on the edge of the tub.

“Me neither,” Prue agreed. “His shoulders are too broad.”

“If he has to lather himself with soap and get into the vent naked, he’s coming through that vent,” Bobby told her.

“I’ll let you tell him the naked part,” Prue teased.

“We could probably take down one of the curtains,” Becca said thoughtfully. “If we turn the curtains into a rope, he can hold one end and we can pull him through.”

“What if he gets stuck?” Prue said with concern.

“Even Pooh got out of Rabbit’s hole, eventually,” Bobby winked. “I think the curtain rope is a great idea.”

“Okay, I’ll get started,” Becca grabbed her bra from the floor and headed back towards the bedroom.

A shrill cry of, “Nate,” sent Bobby and Prue running after her.

Standing in the center of their bedroom was a very confused looking Nate. His right eye was swollen shut and there was dried blood in his hair. Prue ran straight into his arms, nearly knocking him over, “You’re awake.”

“Where the hell are we?” he asked Bobby.

“A better question,” Bobby walked past him, “how’d you get inside this room?” He tried the door and it was still locked.

“What are you talking about?” Nate let go of Prue and turned around, his one good eye went wide, “I swear there wasn’t a wall there a minute ago.”

Bobby rushed over to the wall in question and looked for a seam.

“Ow,” Nate yowled, “quit it, Becks.”

Becca was two inches taller than her little brother and was inspecting the top of his head, “I think you need stitches.”

Prue nodded her head, “I do too.”

“I don’t need stitches,” Nate said with certainty, “but I’d like for someone to tell me where we are.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Bobby asked without turning his attention from the wall.

“Eight men in black interrupted our game of, Ticket To Ride. One of them hit Prue and I tackled him to the ground.” Nate squeezed his eye shut, “I don’t remember anything after that.”

“Bobby,” Becca said sharply, “forget the mystery wall. Give Nate the wires. He’s the best of us at picking locks.”

Bobby looked at his sister sheepishly. She was right. He’d gotten so caught up in the mechanism of the wall that was also a door that he lost sight of the fact that the four of them were together and should be making a break for it. He handed Nate the wires, “See if you can get that door open.”

Nate grinned, “I’ll have us out of here before you know it.”

Bobby began to open drawers and pulled out four sweatshirts and two pairs of sweatpants, “Beck’s find something more practical and warm for the two of you to wear.” The twins didn’t have shoes on, but he wasn’t willing to be separated from any of his siblings again. There was no way he could send Prue back through the vent for two pairs of shoes. He found a pair of sneakers that were intended for Becca. He thought Nate would be able to wear them. Prue was going to be a bigger challenge. Her feet were too tiny to wear Becca’s shoes. He removed six pairs of socks from Becca’s drawers and handed them to Prue, “Put all of them on.”

She took the socks and immediately began to put them on. Becca handed her a pair of sweat pants and she pulled them on. They swam on her tiny frame. Bobby began to roll the cuffs as Becca rolled the waist. Becca pulled a scarf from a drawer and tied it around her sister’s waist, “That should keep them from falling down.”

“Got it,” Nate said triumphantly.

“Don’t open it,” Bobby instructed. “Put those sneaks on.”

“They’re pink,” Nate’s nose wrinkled.

“I don’t care, put them on,” Bobby said tensely. “Once we go out that door, we don’t know what we’re going to find. If I tell you to run, you run. If I tell you to drop to the ground, you drop to the ground. If I tell you to leave me behind, you leave me behind.”

Prue shook her head, “No, we need to stick together.”

He tugged on her long ponytail, “Trust me, the plan is for us to stick together all the way home. I just need the three of you to promise me that you’ll do what you’re told.”

“Who put you in charge?” Nate asked as he pulled on a sweatshirt.

“Mom,” Bobby stated.

“Right,” Nate grumbled.

Bobby put his hand on the doorknob and took one last look at his siblings. Prue was directly behind him, followed by Nate. Becca stood behind the twins and she locked eyes with her brother. They silently agreed to protect the twins, no matter what. “Okay, once we go through this door, we’re silent.” His siblings nodded their agreement. He turned off the light switch and their room went dark. He took a deep breath and slowly opened the door. He slowly stuck his head out into the darkened hallway. There weren’t any signs of guards and he stepped out of the room. He gestured for his siblings to follow him and they quickly walked down the corridor.

A grand staircase led to an elegant foyer and the way out. Bobby escorted them down the stairs quickly and had his hand on the front doorknob when Prue hissed, “Stop.” He turned to look at her and she pointed to a blinking panel, “That’s Kord Industries’ Cobalt 3500T. I won’t be able to disable it without a computer.”

“But _you_ can disable it without a computer,” Bobby whispered, “right?”

“It’s like you don’t hear a word I say,” she groused. At his raised eyebrow, she said, “Fine, I’ll need wire cutters.”

He may not know where there were wire cutters, but he knew where he could find them a knife. He pointed to a hallway, “We need to find the kitchen.”

His siblings lined up behind him and they silently crossed the foyer and entered another darkened hallway. At the back of the house they found what they were looking for. “Prue, find what you need. Nate, find some food we can take. Becca, find anything we can use for a weapon. Quietly,” he reminded them.

He began to search the kitchen for a computer or a phone. Bobby’s eyes landed on a set of car keys sitting on the counter. Their best chance of getting away was in a car. If they had to run, he’d have to carry Prue. The keys almost seemed too good to be true. He wondered if the keys were a trap. Ultimately, he decided that trap or no trap, a car was their best chance of escaping. He swiped the car keys and looked out the window for a sign of the car they belonged to. There wasn’t a sign of a car, but there was a driveway and most driveways led to a garage. He followed the driveway through the windows as he moved around the kitchen and discovered another short hallway with a door. A door that was alarmed and, he assumed, led to the garage. He returned to his siblings, “Do you have what we need?” They all nodded. He cocked his head as he held up the car keys, “This way.”

Prue hurried ahead of him and immediately removed the panel to the alarm. Becca handed him a large butcher knife with a knowing look. The blade felt unusually heavy in his hand. This wasn’t a training exercise with William and Uncle Roy. He had to be prepared to use the knife with lethal force.

“Can we turn on a light?” Prue asked. “I can’t see the wires.”

There was a small flashlight on the keychain he held. He pointed the light into the control panel, “Better?”

“Much,” she mumbled around the paring knife she held between her teeth. Her tiny fingers traced the wires. Prue took the keys from Bobby and shined the light at the garage door. The light and her eyes followed the lines of the door up to the top of the frame, “Damn, it’s wireless.”

“Talk to me,” Bobby told her.

“I think I can keep the alarm from sounding, but not from reporting back to a central station,” she told him.

“That buys us like a minute head start,” Bobby said.

“At most,” she agreed.

“We’ll just have to be fast. Do it,” he instructed.

“Done,” she said.

Bobby opened the door quickly and sighed with relief when an alarm didn’t sound. He was also relieved that the door did lead to a garage. He clicked on the car keys and cursed under his breath. The keys belonged to a two-seater roadster. They’d never all fit inside. There were six cars in the garage, one of which was a Range Rover. If he had to plow through a gate or other cars, it would be better to be in a bigger vehicle.

As if reading his brother’s mind, Nate said, “I can hotwire the SUV.”

Bobby flashed the light along the wall, hoping to find something he could break a car window with, and had to stop himself from whooping in triumph when he spotted keys hanging from hooks on the wall. He grabbed the keys with the Range Rover logo and clicked to unlock it. He grabbed the other keys from the hooks and shoved them into his pocket. It would be harder for their captors to pursue them if they had to hotwire their cars. “Go, go, go,” he instructed his siblings as he hit the garage door opener.

They were almost to the Range Rover when the sound of someone clapping slowly echoed off the concrete. A man carrying a bow stepped from the shadows and blocked their path to the SUV. Bobby put his arms out wide and put himself between the man and his siblings. Becca spun out from behind Bobby and sent three knives flying into the darkness. The man’s bow flashed, and all three knives clattered to the floor. The man began laughing in delight. “Wonderful. You’re all wonderful,” the man stepped towards them. “You’re so much better than I hoped.”

Bobby backed his siblings up, but he angled them until they were heading back in the direction of the roadster. He pressed the keys into Becca’s hand. His sister knew how to drive stick and Prue could sit on Nate’s lap. He would buy his siblings the time they needed. His hand tightened around the butcher knife. “Who are you? What do you want with us?”

“Scientists have debated for centuries whether nature or nurture is more important when raising children. Do your genes determine your destiny or do the people who raise you?”

Bobby met Becca’s eyes in the moonlight. She nodded and smiled bravely at him. He stepped away from his siblings. Prue’s hand grabbed onto his shirt but he pulled from her grip. He approached the man cautiously as he circled away from his siblings and the roadster. The man seemed torn as to who he should follow. “Show yourself,” Bobby growled.

“Take you, Robert. You’re as intelligent as one would expect from a child of Felicity Smoak. I do appreciate you not improvising a bomb from your sister’s toiletries. It’s impossible to find contractors who don’t ask questions about bomb damage. You’re also far braver than I expected a son of Tommy Merlyn’s to be, which makes me think that being raised by Oliver Queen is enough to overcome my son’s weak genes.”

“Your son?” Bobby asked with disbelief.

The man stepped into the moonlight and smiled, “Yes, I’m your grandfather.”

Malcolm Merlyn was rarely spoken of by Bobby’s parents. He was a monster they never permitted to taint their happy home. Over the past few years, his da had begun to reveal more about his childhood and how he’d been verbally and physically abused by Malcolm. If that weren’t enough, living in Starling made it impossible not to know what kind of man his grandfather was. The Undertaking was taught in school and every year, on the anniversary of the earthquake, the city had a public day of mourning. The television was nonstop coverage of the earthquake and Malcolm. The coverage no longer went after their Grandma Moira, but there were still people who speculated that their da had been involved. Even though they’d never met, Bobby hated his grandfather, “You’re not our grandfather. Malcolm Merlyn is dead.”

“Well, I was dead or I am dead – a different version of me is dead. I’ve been brought to this future from my past, before my son murdered me.” Malcolm sighed, “It’s complicated.”

“Yeah, time travel. I’m familiar with the concept. I know some speedsters,” Bobby said as he tried to make sense of his not quite back from the dead grandfather. “I don’t care when you came from, you are not our grandfather, you’re nothing to us.”

The smile fell from his captor’s face, “I realize you children have been raised in this fantasy world where love is more important than blood and that my son has allowed Quentin Lance and Walter Steele to take my rightful place in your lives.”

“You murdered our grandfather,” Bobby seethed.

“Robert Queen is not your grandfather,” Malcolm shouted. “You might carry his name, but it is my blood that flows through your veins.”

“Oliver Queen and Tommy Merlyn are our fathers. Your blood is irrelevant,” Bobby said angrily. He’d gone nineteen years without asking for confirmation of his biology from his own parents. He’d be damned if he allowed Malcolm Merlyn to take away one of his dads from him.

Malcolm regained his composure, “I’m truly impressed with you children. I didn’t expect you to escape from your rooms tonight. I thought it would take a day or two for you to all get yourselves inside one room. I never expected you to use the vent. Very clever. The four of you will do nicely.”

Bobby felt his blood run cold, “What do you want from us?”

“Is it wrong for a man to want to spend time with his grandchildren? Before you were born, your parents denied me access to you. All I’ve ever wanted is to spend time with you.”

A memory from a long time ago surfaced. It was the first time Bobby had ever seen one of his parents afraid. His da had been terrified.0 “You were the man in the park.”

“Probably,” Malcolm admitted. “I’ve never been very far. I’ve been watching all of you since you were born.” He pointed in the direction of the twins, “I was disappointed in how weak Oliver’s children are. I always wanted Oliver for a son because I thought he would provide heirs worthy of the Merlyn name. The last few years they’ve proven me wrong. With his vision corrected and the way he’s growing like a weed, I think the boy will be a worthy successor to his father. The girl is frail, but she’s clever. She might serve a useful purpose and if she doesn’t,” Malcolm shrugged, “she won’t be hard to dispose of.”

Malcolm’s casual reference to his baby sister being expendable filled him with a cold rage. Bobby attacked his grandfather. Every lesson he’d ever learned from his dad, brother, uncles and aunts flowed through him effortlessly. He dodged Malcolm’s blows and began to slash his grandfather’s arms with his blade. “Get in the Range Rover,” he yelled at his siblings as he dropped to his knees and severed the ligaments in his grandfather’s leg. Malcolm dropped to the ground with a howl.

A group of armed men surrounded his siblings. Bobby hoisted Malcolm to his feet and held his blade to the man’s throat, “Tell them to let them go.”

Malcolm chortled, “Never. You’re absolutely perfect. I’m never letting you leave. You are my true heir.”

“I will slit your throat if you don’t let that car drive out of here.” He threw the SUV’s keys to Becca, “Get in the car and get out of here.”

“I’ve told you that I want you and Rebecca, Oliver’s bastards are expendable,” Malcolm said with glee.

Bobby felt sick as Prue’s chest lit up with twenty red laser targets. Nate pulled his twin into his arms and wrapped himself around her as he dropped them to the ground.

Becca moved to stand in front of the twins, but she was grabbed by a man and pulled away. “Let me go,” she shouted as she struggled.

“If you drop the knife, I’ll let them live,” Malcolm offered. “Life is made up of choices, Robert. What will yours be?”

“Tell them to lower their guns and I’ll drop the knife.” Bobby’s heart hammered in his throat. He knew Malcolm was unpredictable and he wasn’t sure that he could trust his grandfather’s word, but he didn’t know how else to save the twins.

“Lower your weapons,” Malcolm instructed.

The laser targets disappeared from the twins and Bobby dropped the knife to the ground. He quickly moved towards the twins and they ran into his arms. The guard let go of Becca and she joined them.

“Escort them to my office,” Malcolm instructed his guards. “I’ll join them as soon as I take care of this inconvenience.”

Bobby had a small sense of satisfaction that the ligament he severed was more than an inconvenience. The next time he saw his Aunt Sara he’d have to thank her for teaching him that move.

A guard gestured with his gun and all four children followed. They were escorted through the first floor of the house and brought into what appeared to be a library. There was large fireplace with a roaring fire.

“Bobby,” Becca said in disbelief. The walls were covered in framed photographs of the four of them, documenting their entire lives. “I bought that shirt last week,” Becca pointed to a picture of her walking down their street in Starling.

“If he doesn’t think we’re his grandchildren, why does he have pictures of us up?” Nate asked as he looked at some of the photographs that contained images of the twins.

“He has more pictures of daddy than da,” Prue said as she held up a photograph of their dads taken on their wedding day. “I don’t see any photos of mom or Aunt Thea or Mia or Scott. Why don’t you think he’s interested in them? Mia and Scott are his grandchildren too.”

“All good questions, but I don’t know,” Bobby answered as he used the underwires to pick the lock on the desk.

“I know it was dark, but for a man who’s supposed to be our grandfather, he looks younger than our dads. He looks like he’s closer to Will’s age,” Becca said to Bobby. “Do we believe the time travel thing?”

“Do we believe da murdered him?” Prue asked, her bottom lip quivering.

“He used to beat da,” Nate said off-handedly as he studied a photograph of Tommy pushing him on a swing.

“Da told you that?” Bobby asked his little brother with surprise. He hadn’t realized their da had shared that information with his brother.

“He said that he fractured his cheekbone, broke some ribs, gave him the scar above his left eye,” Nate flopped into one of the armchairs. “Grandpa Malcolm isn’t a good guy.”

“We kind of figured that out the first time we learned about the Undertaking,” Bobby said as he rummaged through the desk’s drawers.

“Do you think da actually killed him?” Prue’s hands were tightly clasped against her chest as she asked the question again.

Bobby looked up from his desk, “To save us, or mom, or daddy, yes.”

“How do you know?” Prue asked with tears in her eyes.

“Because I was prepared to do the same five minutes ago and you guys aren’t even my kids, so, yeah, I think da could’ve killed him if he thought we were in danger.” Bobby returned his attention to the desk. “Guys, stop asking questions and start looking for things that will help us. A tablet, a phone, a telegraph machine. Anything that can help us get in touch with mom and dads.”

The desk was a bust. He doubted Malcolm used this room for much beyond show. A portrait of his Grandma Rebecca sat on the desk. He picked up the frame and stared at the woman who had given birth to his father but was a complete mystery to him. A doctor who volunteered her services in the Glades and had married a ruthless businessman. The little his da had spoken about his childhood, he had said that his mother’s murder had broken his father and turned him into a monster. Bobby was often amazed by how much tragedy his dads had survived and yet, they remained kind and decent men, even if one of them was once the Green Arrow. There was nothing Malcolm Merlyn could offer him that he’d be remotely interested in.

“Is there a picture of Malcolm on that wall?” he asked Prue.

“No, why?” Prue asked.

Bobby ran a hand through his hair. Something about Malcolm didn’t feel right. He’d seen enough pictures of his grandfather over the years to know what he thought his grandfather should look like. Even if Malcolm was only thirty his appearance wouldn’t be that much different from the man who’d tried to level the Glades. The man had a strong resemblance to his da, himself, and even to Malcolm, but Bobby wasn’t convinced. There was something wrong with the man’s appearance, but Bobby couldn’t put his finger on it. He decided to keep his suspicions to himself. They were clearly under surveillance, and whoever was holding them captive wanted them to believe he was Malcolm Merlyn. 

There was a soft knock on the door and a woman in her early twenties entered wheeling a cart. “Mr. Merlyn thought you might be hungry. If there are any specific foods that you like or don’t care for, please let Mr. Merlyn know. I’m aware of Miss Prudence’s dietary restrictions.”

Bobby lifted the tray off the cart. “Thank you - Miss?” he asked with his most charming smile.

The woman blushed, “You can call me Lily.”

Bobby sat the tray on the desk. “Thank you, Lily. It’s very nice of you to look out for our Prue. Thank you.” He smiled and casually brushed his hand against Lily’s. He scanned the cart, “I don’t see any applesauce. Prue eats applesauce at every meal,” he said with pleading eyes.

“Oh, of course. I will get some for her now,” Lily said apologetically.

“Bobby,” Prue began but stopped at her brother’s silencing look.

Bobby smiled at Lily, “Thank you.”

“Really?” Becca asked as soon as the door closed behind Lily. “Your big plan is to flirt with that woman?”

His father taught him to use whatever they had at their disposal. He couldn’t help it if women found him irresistible. Bobby thought Lily might be useful. They needed to find allies if they wanted to escape. Lily might be a good candidate to sneak a message to their parents. “We need to make sure that Prue gets the right food,” he said for the benefit of the camera.

“The women at school must love your humility,” Becca teased as she took a sandwich from the cart.

Nate snickered, “All the girls love Prince Charming.”

Bobby hated the lame tabloid nicknames for them. His siblings could tease all they wanted, he planned to use his prodigious charm to get them out of there, if that’s what it took.

The four children sat around the cart and ate. Prue nibbled on a banana and Bobby made a mental note to make sure his little sister’s anxiety was kept to a minimum. She took a cocktail of medicines every day to keep her condition manageable. The last thing they needed was for her to have a flare-up that required hospitalization. There was no guarantee Malcolm would allow her to go to a hospital or if he’d bother bringing in a doctor and medical equipment if Prue required one. Without access to medicine, Bobby wouldn’t be of much use to his sister if she got sick. He had no way of knowing if Malcolm really believed Nate and Prue were expendable, but he didn’t plan on testing his grandfather’s assertion.

The door opened and Malcolm walked through with a grin on his face. There was no sign of a limp or any other kind of injury. “Oh good, Lily brought your dinner. I see you’ve made yourselves at home,” Malcolm took a sandwich from the tray and sat behind his desk. “This is your home now too. I want you to be comfortable here.”

“Our home is in Starling – with our parents,” Bobby glared at his grandfather, studying his facial features for any similarities with his dad’s.

“The sooner that you accept that this is your home, the easier things will be. I don’t want to keep you prisoners in your room. This island is quite lovely and I’m sure you’d like to go outside and enjoy the fresh air.”

“An island?” Prue asked with tears pooling in her eyes.

“I’m afraid so,” Malcolm put down his sandwich. “Even if you had made it out of the garage, there would’ve been nowhere for you to go.”

“There’s a lot of cars in the garage for an island,” Becca snarked.

Malcolm grinned, “I’m a collector of cars and, now, of children.”

“Our mom and dads will find us,” Nate squeezed Prue’s hand in reassurance. “We’ll be home before you even know it.”

“Your parents are a little occupied at the moment,” Malcolm leaned back in his chair. “They’re too busy to look for you.”

“Daddy will always come for us,” Becca repeated the phrase they all believed in. Some people had faith in God, but the Smoak children had faith in Oliver Queen.

“Yes, Oliver does have a way of turning up at the most inconvenient time,” Malcolm frowned.

“What do you want with us?” Bobby asked.

“I’ve already told you. I want us to be a family. I want to give you everything your father refused from me. I have an empire to share with you.”

“We’re the heirs to Queen Consolidated, we don’t need your empire,” Bobby stated.

Malcolm’s hand came down hard on the desk, “You’re not Queens. You’re Merlyns. You are not Robert Queen’s legacy, you are mine.” Malcolm turned towards a crying Prue, “Stop your sniveling. I don’t tolerate weakness. I failed to beat it out of my son, but that won’t stop me trying it on you.”

Bobby lifted his grandfather up by the front of his shirt and slammed his back onto the desk. With a hand wrapped around Malcolm’s throat he promised, “If you so much as look at my sisters or brother funny, I will kill you.”

A gleeful smile turned Malcolm’s lips and he began to laugh, “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were Oliver’s. You should’ve seen what he was like when he first came home. He was bloodthirsty and ruthless. Do you have any idea how many men Oliver Queen has murdered? Your beloved daddy is nothing more than a charming serial killer.”

“Says the mass murderer,” Bobby snarled. He released his iron grip on Malcolm as two men entered the room pointing guns at the twins.

“When you’re done with your meals, you will be escorted back upstairs. As punishment for your outburst, the four of you will be separated until I’m convinced you will behave,” Malcolm sneered.

Prue clamped her hand over her mouth to cover her whimper of distress. Nate and Becca put their arms around her.

“You can lock me away. Don’t separate Becca, Prue and Nate,” Bobby said, regretting his bravado. His parents were counting on him to keep his sisters and brother safe and he couldn’t do it if they were separated.

Malcolm poked Bobby’s shoulder with his index finger, “Everyone has their weakness and you’ve revealed yours.” He stepped back and pointed at the guards, “Take her.”

The guards moved towards Becca, Nate and Prue. The three backed away from the guards.

“Don’t you dare touch them,” Bobby shouted as he lunged towards the guards. Malcolm pulled a gun from beneath his jacket and pointed it at Bobby’s head. “Prudence dear, if you don’t want to watch me paint the walls with your brother’s brains, you’ll go with these men now.”

Bobby was confident he could easily disarm Malcolm, but he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to do it before one of the guards shot one or both of the twins. Any action he took could result in the death of his siblings. He had no choice but to bide his time.

Prue extracted herself from Becca and Nate’s arms. She wiped the tears from her eyes, held her chin up and then nodded her head. As she passed Bobby she squeezed his hand and smiled bravely, “It’s’ okay, Bobby. It’s not your fault. I’ll be fine. Be smart. We need you.”

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised. “Stay calm. Do your breathing exercises.”

“I’ll be fine,” Prue promised before the guard shoved her forward.

“You son of a bitch. If anything happens to her,” Bobby seethed, “I will kill you.”

“Every time you disobey me, I won’t punish you, I will punish her. That goes for all of you,” Malcolm said maliciously. “Any time you say a snide comment or make a threat, I will punish Prudence. You try to escape. I will punish Prudence. You raise your hand to me, I will punish Prudence. She doesn’t seem like she’s very strong. How much do you think she can take?”

Malcolm’s question was met with angry silence.

“Excellent,” he said with a smile. “Do we have an understanding?”

When his question was met with silence again, he shouted, “Do we have an understanding?”

“Yes,” Bobby, Becca, and Nate said together.

“Finish your dinners. The guards will return and escort the three of you back to your room when you’re done. Good night,” Malcolm said before leaving the room.

Nate angrily rubbed at his tears, “I hope when da killed him, it was painful.”

Bobby picked up a glass from the tray and threw it against the fireplace.

“It’s not your fault,” Becca said quietly. “I can’t believe da grew up in his house. How did he survive?”

“He had daddy and Aunt Thea,” Bobby answered. “We’re going to survive this too because we’re together.”

“We’re not together,” Nate shouted, pointing to the door. “That monster took Prue. She’s all alone.”

“She’s not alone. She has us.” Bobby placed his hand on the back of Nate’s neck, “Listen to me. We’re going to do what he says, and we’ll get Prue back. Daddy will come for us - we just need to stick to our plan until he does. Right now, I need you both to eat something. We don’t know when we’ll have access to food again.”

Bobby moved to the wall of photographs and studied the images as Becca and Nate sat down to eat. Something wasn’t adding up for him. Something felt off. If Malcolm had traveled to the future, it didn’t make sense that he was this angry with Bobby’s da. Malcolm didn’t look much older than thirty. Grandma Rebecca was alive and well when Malcolm was thirty. His da’s abuse hadn’t begun until after Grandma Rebecca’s death. Bobby wished he’d paid more attention when his aunts discussed the Lazarus Pits controlled by the League. He wasn’t sure if Malcolm’s youthful appearance could be the result of time spent in a Lazarus pit. The miraculous healing of the wound Bobby inflicted pointed to Malcolm having access to a pit. Bobby pinched the end of his nose. He was supposed to be a genius and he was frustrated that he couldn’t figure out what was tugging at the recesses of his memory.

Becca approached, holding out a sandwich. “You should eat too.”

“Thanks,” he said, taking the sandwich from her.

The door opened and a guard beckoned them forward. “Time’s up. Back to your rooms.”

They each grabbed what they could from the tray and followed the guard back to their rooms. Bobby walked between his siblings and spoke softly. “Tonight, I want you to remember every story and rumor you’ve ever heard about Malcolm – especially the stuff you’ve heard mom and dads say when they didn’t know you were listening.”

There was a mystery here, and Bobby hated mysteries.


	2. Prue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The investigation into the children's disappearance begins in Starling. Prue begins her own investigation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for enthusiastic support of chapter 1. Your comments made me smile.

The glass crunched beneath Felicity’s feet as she stepped through the shattered floor to ceiling windows into the crime scene that was once her kitchen. She watched as her friends and family reviewed the evidence Team Arrow and Team Flash had collected. Her children had been taken from the safety of their home twenty-four hours earlier. There hadn’t been any word from the kidnappers. No demands for ransom. No vows of revenge. Silence.

Oliver stepped away from Barry and placed his hands on her shoulders. “They’re not dead.”

Felicity nodded. She refused to believe their children were dead – it wasn’t logical. If someone wanted them dead, they would’ve killed them instead of taking them. What worried Felicity was that if someone wanted a ransom or revenge it made no sense they hadn’t heard from the kidnappers. She feared something had gone wrong and the kidnappers were going to cut their losses instead of reaching out. “Is it possible they escaped?”

Oliver’s eyebrows drew together as he considered her question. After a few seconds, he shook his head. “It’s possible, but they would’ve reached out to someone.”

“What if they were taken to a remote location?” Felicity countered. “They may not be able to communicate.”

“All four of them know how to survive in the wilderness. If they are free, Bobby will keep them safe until he finds a way to contact us or we find them.”

“Their trackers aren’t sending out a signal,” Felicity said absently, her eyes trained on a pool of tacky blood on the floor.

“That could mean they are remote. Somewhere without satellite coverage,” Oliver offered.

Felicity raised an incredulous brow. There wasn’t a corner of the globe where she didn’t have satellite coverage. “They went offline almost immediately. I tracked them as far as the harbor before they disappeared.”

The blood drained from Oliver’s face and he closed his eyes. “They’re not in the water. It wouldn’t make sense to take them from the house just to throw them into the water.”

Felicity placed her hand over Oliver’s heart. If Malcolm were still alive, she wouldn’t put it past him to kill the children in order to make Oliver, Tommy, and Felicity spend the rest of their lives hoping and searching. “If they were in the water, Overwatch would be able to see them. Whoever took them, must have a dampening field around them.”

Barry cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt. I have some preliminary results. The good news, the big pool of blood doesn’t belong to one of the kids. Actually, the vast majority of blood doesn’t belong to the kids. They must have put up one hell of a fight.”

“Majority?” Felicity asked, her legs suddenly feeling weak.

“A couple of splatters belong to Nate and Bobby – not a lot. Nothing so far for the girls.” Barry held up a tiny dart. “We found quite a few of these stuck in the walls and the table. This one contains a heavy sedative and Prue’s DNA on the tip. They were most likely drugged before they were taken from the house.”

“How heavy of a sedative?” Oliver asked, taking the dart from Barry.

“Enough to keep them incapacitated for a few hours.”

Oliver surveyed the damage to their kitchen. “They didn’t go down without a fight.”

A faint smile turned Barry’s lips. “I’d expect nothing less from the children of the Green Arrow.”

“How would most teenagers act if a group of armed kidnappers busted through their kitchen windows while they played a board game?” Oliver asked.

“They’d either panic or be compliant.” Barry pointed to the blood on the floor, “They wouldn’t cause this much damage or need to be shot with tranquilizer darts.”

The hair went up on the back of Felicity’s neck as she realized what Oliver was implying. “They were expecting a confrontation. The kidnappers know they have the children of the Green Arrow.”

“Kidnappers expecting normal teenagers wouldn’t come armed with tranq darts. They didn’t expect to find children who would be easily intimidated into compliance. They were expecting a fight from at least one highly skilled fighter.”

“Do you think this is about the Green Arrow or Doctor Midnight?” Felicity asked, her mind already running through William and Bobby’s most recent cases.

“I don’t know, but whoever it is, they know who we are,” Oliver said, his forefinger and thumb rubbing together.

“That should narrow the suspect pool,” Barry said optimistically. “Which of the bad guys knows who you are?”

“Too many,” Oliver grumbled under his breath.

“We need to call Floyd, ask if he’s heard anything. It wouldn’t hurt to touch base with Bruce either,” Felicity said, already in motion for her office in the basement. “I’ll call Sara and Nyssa too.”

Oliver took hold of her bicep as she turned to walk away. “Call everyone, the entire Justice League. Code red - all hands on deck, no one sits this out.”

Felicity was unable to say anything more than, “Okay.” Oliver was always happy to lend a hand when other heroes asked for help, but he never asked for help from anyone other than Team Flash. If he was calling in everyone, he was desperate and that scared her more than walking into her destroyed kitchen covered in blood.

Tommy was sitting on the stairs when she entered the hallway. He held an orange prescription bottle in his hands. “She’s missed two doses,” he said without looking up.

Felicity swallowed the lump that appeared in her throat. “Prue can go a few days without them. They’re preventative.”

Tommy’s head snapped up and he scowled at her. “She’s under stress – possibly injured.”

Felicity was doing her best to separate the mom from Overwatch. She couldn’t think about the consequences for any of her children. She had to trust that they were looking out for each other. Her children expected her to find them and to send their father, uncles and big brother to bring them home. Tommy didn’t have the luxury of the mission; all he was left with was his worry. She ran her fingers through his hair. “They’re okay. The blood in the kitchen isn’t theirs. Bobby will look after them until we can bring them home.”

“Do you know who took them?” Tommy asked hopefully.

“No, but we believe whoever took them knows our secret. Barry’s running the DNA on the blood. I’m going to reach out to our contacts and look into our recent case files. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

Tommy looked back down at the bottle of pills and slowly rose to his feet. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”

“Tommy,” Oliver said as he approached. “Pack a bag. You’re going to stay at the mansion until we have this under control. Emma and the kids are going too.”

Tommy arched a brow. “Protect the women and children.”

Oliver took Tommy’s hand. “If they know who we are, we need to circle the wagons around the civilians. The mansion has the best security. William and Roy are going to keep you all safe while we find our kids.”

“I don’t need to be kept safe. I need to know what’s going on,” Tommy said defiantly. “I need to know where our kids are.”

Oliver clasped the back of Tommy’s neck. “Everyone is on edge and worried. The best person to keep everyone focused on the positive is you. Thea and Emma are going to need your help.”

Tommy looked between his husband and wife before his shoulders sagged. “Fine, I’ll go pack.”

Oliver squeezed her shoulder as they watched Tommy disappear up the stairs. “The best way to help him is to find them. Come on,” he steered her towards the basement door, “William and I are going to help you go through the recent case files.”

“We can eliminate most of the small players, they don’t have the money or the skills to pull this off,” Felicity said. She was talking to herself as much as Oliver. She needed to focus on the mystery. The trackers were the key. Felicity’s first order of business was to identify which of their enemies knew about the trackers or how to effectively block them. She pushed thoughts of Prue and her missed doses away. Her kids needed her to be Overwatch. There would be plenty of time to be their mom when they returned home.

Prue stood on the windowsill with the sash up as she inspected the bars trapping her inside her gilded prison. Her new room was as nicely furnished as the one she’d regained consciousness in, but there were some key differences. The most noticeable difference was that the drawers and closets were empty of any clothing. Her new bathroom didn’t have her favorite shampoo or toothpaste. The screws on the air vents had been welded, and there was no chance her underwire would be able to loosen them. She’d been surprised when her windows opened. If she couldn’t go through the vents, maybe she could go through a window. The bars were bolted into the brick of the building’s exterior. With enough force, they might be able to dislodge the bars from the windows. The bars seemed secure when she pushed against them, but she didn’t have the force of Bobby’s weight and muscles. He would have better luck, especially if they were able to weaken the bars with a corrosive. She hopped down, closed the window and moved onto the next.

Prue had no idea how long her separation from her siblings would last. She hoped that it was only a temporary way to prove a point and they would be reunited once their captor had been satisfied of her siblings’ compliance. Taking Prue was the best way to remind Bobby of who was in control and to keep him in line. It’s what she would’ve done if she’d kidnapped them. She climbed onto the next windowsill and lifted the sash, shivering as a gust of cold wind whipped around her. She inspected the bars, looking for a weakness, but they were as unyielding as the last.

A woman stepped into the clearing along the distant shoreline, stopping Prue from lowering the sash. She opened her mouth to scream but stopped herself before she could make more than a squeak. If her captor was telling the truth, and they were on an island, the woman was another of their captors or employed by her captors. It was hard to tell from a distance, but the woman appeared to have shoulder length blonde hair. She filed the information away for when she next saw one of her siblings. They should start paying attention to how many people were on the island with them. They needed to know what they were up against when they made their escape.

The lock turned in her door and Prue pushed on the window sash and jumped to the floor. She leaned against the window frame and did her best to look bored and unafraid.

A silver trolley appeared before Lily stepped into the room. “Good morning, Miss Prudence. I brought your breakfast.”

Prue forced a friendly smile. “Good morning, Lily.”

“Did you sleep all right? Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?” Lily asked as she lifted the silver dome and placed it beneath the cart.

“Yes, you can let me see my brothers and sister,” Prue answered honestly.

Lily hesitated for a moment before pointing to the food on the tray. “I have the applesauce your brother requested for you last night. There’s toast. Jam. Yogurt. Tomorrow, I can make you a hot breakfast – pancakes, omelet – whatever you want.” She held out a small paper cup, “Your medicine.”

Prue took the small paper cup and examined the pills inside. Prue was an expert on her medication. She knew the size, shape and color of all her prescriptions. She held the cup back out to Lily, “These aren’t correct.”

Lily frowned and closed her hand around Prue’s. “These are your medications. Our benefactor was insistent that you take your pills with your breakfast.”

“I know what my meds look like and they don’t look like this.” Prue returned the drugs to the cart and picked up the bowl of applesauce. She took a tentative taste. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t as good as what her dad made. She returned the bowl to the cart.

“Is it okay?”

“A bit tart. Needs more cinnamon.”

“I’ll get you some cinnamon and sugar. I’ll be right back,” Lily said hurrying from the room.

Prue rushed to the door hoping to catch the knob before it locked behind Lilly. She groaned with frustration when the knob failed to turn in her hands. She squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to allow tears of frustration to form. She needed to stay calm and she needed to think. Bobby, Becca, and Nate were probably trying to think of a way to escape and they would expect her to do her part. They had managed to outsmart their captives the day before with little planning. Prue was confident they would be able to get away if they focused.

Prue wandered back to the window and watched the woman walk along the beach. She wondered if they would be given permission to walk outside. If they were really on an island, there had to be a boat somewhere. The Smoak children were all excellent sailors. If they could find a boat, they could find their way to freedom.

The door to her room opened and she was surprised to see the man who proclaimed to be their grandfather enter. “Lily said you needed sugar and cinnamon.” He placed a small covered bowl and a shaker onto the cart with her food. “You haven’t eaten. Would you like me to get you something else to eat?”

Prue stared at the man, trying to find her da in his features. The dimples. The hair. The eyes. All of it was familiar, but it was like they were put together wrong. Her da’s eyes were equal parts happiness and mischief. The eyes watching her were the same color, but there was no warmth to them.

He picked up the paper cup and shook it. “You haven’t taken your medication.”

“How old are you?” Prue asked.

Her so-called grandfather looked at her with surprise.

“How – old – are- you?” she asked again.

“How old do you think I am?” he asked, looking amused. He returned her paper cup to the cart.

“How old were you when my da was born?” Prue asked, knowing the answer.

“Twenty-six,” he answered without hesitation.

“You don’t look like any eighty-one-year-old I’ve ever met,” she responded. “You look closer in age to my brother William.”

“Will is older than me by two years,” he said with a smirk.

Prue narrowed her eyes as she studied the man before her. He was a liar. If he was her grandfather and he had time traveled, he had come from a time before her Grandma Rebecca had been murdered and her da was still a little boy. He would have no reason to be this angry and bitter – not yet. If her grandmother was still alive in his timeline, he wouldn’t have joined the League of Assassins yet. “You’re not my grandfather.”

“Robert Queen is your grandfather,” he said, before taking a bite of toast.

“You’re not my da’s dad,” she said.

He sat down in a wingback chair and crossed his legs. “Tell me about Tommy. What’s he like? Has he been a good father?”

Prue folded her arms across her chest. She wasn’t going to share anything about her da with this stranger. “Why did you beat him?”

The man arched his brow. “Tommy has a vivid imagination.”

Malcolm was rarely spoken of at home, but Prue had always been morbidly curious about him. It was hard to reconcile the man her da was with the man who raised him. Every year when the anniversary of the Undertaking came around and her family mourned her Aunt Laurel, Prue spent more of her time reading about her grandfather. She couldn’t understand how he’d plotted to murder so many innocent people. Even when her da tried to explain that his dad had been devastated by the murder of her grandmother, it still didn’t make sense to her. Prue never thought she’d get this chance to ask her grandfather what she’d spent years dying to know. “Why did you do it? What gave you the right to murder all those people?”

If Malcolm was surprised, he didn’t show it. “You look a lot like your mother, but you remind me of Moira. She had an imperious way about her too. She was fearless and defiant, and it cost her her life. Pray that it doesn’t cost you yours too.” He rose from the chair and picked up the paper cup. “This is your medication – take it. They are generic substitutes for your prescriptions. I’m not trying to poison you. I’m trying to honor the promise I made to your siblings. You will stay alive and unharmed as long as they cooperate.” When Prue remained silent, he sighed and returned the cup to the cart. “Lily will be back for the cart in an hour. You will have taken your medication and eaten at least half of what is on this cart by the time she returns. If not, I promise, you will take them by force.”

“What do you want from us? Are you trying to punish our da?”

Malcolm opened her door but hesitated from stepping through. “You are very lucky to have grown up with your father. Some might even say you’re greedy to claim two fathers for your own.” He smiled bitterly at her. “Family is everything and Tommy denied me mine. Robert and Rebecca are my family, you and Nate are just collateral damage.”

Prue wasn’t sure she believed that she or Nate were merely collateral damage. If they were truly expendable, they never would’ve been taken from their home. “Bobby and Becca will never forgive you for kidnapping us. They will never choose you over our parents.”

“Prudence, that would imply any of you have a choice in all of this.” Before the door closed behind him, his head popped back inside. “There are cameras in here. Stay off the window ledges or I will have them sealed shut. Take your medicine.”

Prue rushed the door trying to catch it before it latched. She kicked the door in frustration when it refused to open for her. She’d forgotten to ask if she could go outside for a walk. Her head dropped to the door and she willed herself not to cry. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of watching her cry. She was the daughter of Felicity Smoak and she was tougher than she looked.

She returned to the trolly and sprinkled some cinnamon onto the applesauce. She picked up her pills and pretended to swallow them as she placed them into her pocket and tried not to giggle. There was only one thing her da ever passed down from Malcolm and that was the art of the sleight of hand. Her grandfather was making a mistake in underestimating her.

Prue carried her applesauce to the window and was disappointed that the woman was no longer on the beach. She thought about what she learned from her encounter with her grandfather and couldn’t help but think she was missing something. There was something nagging at the back of her mind. Something he’d said hadn’t been right, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She had to be prepared for when she was reunited with her siblings. She needed to plan for her next encounter with her grandfather – starting with asking permission to go outside for a walk and identifying each of his lies. She had a feeling the truth would set them free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Your kudos and comments are what keep me writing and are always appreciated.
> 
> I hope this installment finds all of you well and safe. I apologize for the delay in the posting of this chapter. I live in a part of the states where there have been a lot of deaths. Unfortunately, several of the deaths have impacted my friends and extended family. It has been hard to connect with this series and I have found myself staring at the blinking cursor unable to find the words I need. The pandemic is stripping us of many things that make us human. Being able to provide comfort to those who suffer and grieve is being denied to us right now. Not being able to hug a friend who has lost her mom or a friend who has lost her husband has made me realize how much I've taken for granted the power of being there when times are darkest. For those of you grieving and struggling, I send my love and hope for better days to come.
> 
> I will do my best to have Chapter 3 up much sooner.  
> Come say hi to me on tumblr. I'm always happy to answer questions about this verse or anything else Arrow. http://realityisoverrated-fic.tumblr.com


	3. Nate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver, Felicity, and Tommy may not know where the children are, but they are about to learn where they are not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this update took longer than expected.

Tommy stood beneath an umbrella with Felicity tucked against his side. They watched in silence as various members of the Justice League examined the waterfront where the children’s signals disappeared.

“They’re not going to find anything,” Tommy growled with frustration. “This rain is washing everything away.”

Felicity squeezed his waist. “We already looked for physical evidence and didn’t find any. That’s why we asked them to come.”

“We think magic is going to help us find our kids?” Tommy watched Zatanna talking to Cisco with suspicion. He had forgiven his husband and wife a long time ago, but whenever he saw Zatanna, she brought up unpleasant memories that, ironically, he would sooner forget.

“Zatanna and Constantine are the only ones with magic. The rest are metas who have abilities my equipment can’t compete with. They might be able to see something we can’t.”

Tommy didn’t take a lot of comfort from the idea that a demon hunter might be able to locate his kids. A pit formed in his stomach when Cisco dropped his head and gave it a small shake. Zatanna placed a hand on Cisco’s shoulder. Cisco took a deep breath and walked over to where Oliver was speaking with Barry, Bruce, William, and Dick. Cisco said something and Oliver’s eyes quickly flicked over to Tommy and Felicity.

A small gasp passed Felicity’s lips and Tommy’s knees went weak. _They’re not dead. They’re not dead. They’re not dead._ Tommy repeated over and over in his head as Oliver, William, and Cisco walked towards them. He laced his fingers with Felicity’s, and they held their breath as they awaited whatever news had Oliver looking like he was going to be sick.

“Were you able to sense them?” Felicity asked, reaching for Cisco’s hand.

Cisco took Felicity’s hand and shook his head. “Felicity, they’re no longer here.”

“What?” Tommy sobbed as his worst fears were realized. “Are you saying they’re dead.”

“No, no, Tommy.” Cisco grabbed Tommy’s arm. “I’m sorry. They’re no longer here - on this earth.”

“On this earth?” Tommy asked with disbelief. He hadn’t thought of the multiverse in years. He would gladly accept the idea of his children in another universe if it meant they were still alive. “They’re on another earth?”

“Yes, someone opened up a portal over there.” Cisco released Tommy’s arm and gestured towards the water.

Relief and hope swelled through Tommy’s chest. His kids were coming home. They’d be sleeping in their own beds by the end of the day. “Well, open the portal back up and go get my kids. What are you waiting for?”

Cisco looked to Oliver.

“Tommy.”

As quickly as the hope came, it vanished with the look his husband was giving him. It was a mixture of guilt, fear, and frustration. Tommy didn’t want excuses or delays. He wanted his kids back and he wanted them back immediately. “Don’t, Ollie. Don’t you dare tell me you can’t go get our kids. What’s the whole point of the Justice League if they can’t open a portal for us?”

“I can’t locate the other end of the portal,” Cisco said apologetically. “Whoever opened the portal has the ability to distort the frequency when it closes. I don’t know what earth the kids are on.”

“What’s next?” Tommy asked, fighting to keep his voice even. “They’re not on this earth. That’s a clue, right? It must narrow down our suspect pool, right? A bad guy who can open portals and hide their signature – how many villains do you know that can do that? How many of them hate the Green Arrow? Who would want the children of the Green Arrow? Why would any…” Tommy felt like all the air was torn from his lungs when he realized there was only one person who would want their kids. “My dad. My dad is alive on other earths, right?”

“We don’t know that it’s Malcolm,” Oliver said, gripping the back of Tommy’s neck.

“Even if there are Malcolms on other earths, he’d be eighty. Forget about Bobby, Prue can take out an eighty-year-old,” William said. “It can’t be Malcolm.”

“Never underestimate my father,” Tommy said, remembering the last time he saw him. “Are there Lazarus Pits on other earths? Even if there aren’t – there might still be some on our earth that Nyssa and Sara missed.”

“There’s no point in worrying about Malcolm until we know it’s him. We need to find the right earth first – that’s the priority. Cisco is going to work with Ray, Curtis, and William to clear up the distortion,” Oliver explained. “Zatanna and John are going to reach out to some contacts and go at it from another angle. Bruce and Dick are going to check in with the other bats, see if any of them have any ideas. Barry is going to coordinate the different teams.”

“I’ll go with Cisco and William. I should be able to write some code to help identify the correct frequency,” Felicity said, breaking her unusual silence.

“Not tonight,” Oliver said softly. “You haven’t slept in two days. You need to sleep. You both do.”

“I’ll sleep when our kids get home,” Felicity snapped.

Oliver ran his hands over his face. “You’re exhausted. The three of us are exhausted. We’ve got the best people on the planet working to bring our kids home. Trust them to do what needs to be done. We need to go home, eat, and get a few hours of sleep.”

“Felicity, I promise when you wake up in the morning, we’ll have made progress. We’ll have everything ready for you to work your brand of magic on.” William cut Felicity off before she could interrupt. “They’re my family too. I want them home and safe and I’ll be the first one through the portal to bring them back to you.”

Her shoulders sagged as all the fight left Felicity. “Okay, but if you run into a dead end you have to promise that you’ll call me.”

“We promise,” Cisco said. “We’re bringing your kids home, no matter what.”

Oliver led them back towards their car in silence. Tommy didn’t think he’d be able to sleep, no matter how tired he was. The memory of driving an ice pick into his father’s neck played on an endless loop. It was surreal to think that killing his father once was insufficient to protect his family. The multiverse ensured his dad could torture them forever. As long as there was a single Malcolm Merlyn on any earth, Tommy’s family would never be safe.

Nate tripped when Prue appeared in a third story window. Only Bobby’s firm grip on his arm kept him upright. He craned his head back towards the window and had to bite his tongue from crying out with joy when Prue smiled and gave him a small wave before stepping away from the window. It had been three days since he’d last seen his twin and it was making him anxious. He could feel Prue’s anxiety as if it were his own. This was the longest he’d gone without being able to talk to her in his entire life and he felt like he might go mad from it. Being separated from Prue was unbearable. It was like he couldn’t breathe or think clearly. He felt uncomfortable in his own skin, like electricity was thrumming just below the surface. He needed Prue to close the circuit and quiet his brain. Prue had to be feeling the same way.

People routinely made fun of the twin thing, but it was real. Anyone who spent time with them knew they had a connection different than most siblings. It was like there was a gravitational pull between them. The further apart they were, the more desperate they became. As close as Bobby and Becca were to each other and to the twins, they didn’t seem to share a brain like Nate and Prue did. It was more than finishing each other’s thoughts, it was like they experienced each other’s thoughts. Their mom liked to say they came into existence together and whatever sparked them into being had created an unbreakable connection between them. They had to find a way to get Prue returned to them.

“Keep moving,” Bobby hissed.

It took several half steps for Nate to recover his pace. Bobby released his grip and Nate fell back into step between Bobby and Becca as they ran around the grounds of their new prison. The man who insisted he was their grandfather had made an appearance after breakfast to declare that it was time for their training to begin. They were on a five-mile run with the men in their grandfather’s service. “I saw Prue,” he said quietly.

“I did too, but we don’t need to let anyone know that we saw her,” Bobby said.

“Now that we know where she is, we can break out of here,” Nate said.

“We need to figure our way off this island first.” Bobby slowed his pace when he realized Becca had fallen behind.

Nate glanced over his shoulder to check on his sister. She didn’t look injured, but she did look distracted. “Come on, slow poke.”

Becca rolled her eyes before she sped up. “There’s a woman running on the beach. Blonde. Long ponytail.”

“The beach?” Bobby asked.

“I saw her through the trees.”

Nate squinted his eyes as he looked past the trees that stood between the house and the ocean. He caught a glimpse of a woman in a baby blue fleece. “Grandpa has a girlfriend?”

“Could be another guard or a housekeeper,” Bobby suggested.

“Seriously, who agrees to work for someone who kidnaps children?” Becca lamented.

“I guess he’s paying them a lot of money,” Nate said, stating the obvious.

Becca stopped running. Bobby and Nate turned around and jogged back to her side. “Did you hurt yourself?” Bobby asked as he started to kneel to get a closer look at her leg.

Becca lifted her right leg and rested her foot on Bobby’s thigh. She leaned forward and whispered. “We’ve got to have more money than grandpa, right? Why don’t we just offer someone more money to help us get out of here or to call mom and dads?”

Nate thought Becca’s idea was a brilliant one. He couldn’t believe none of them had thought of it sooner. “That’ll work, right?”

Bobby rotated Becca’s ankle as he continued to pretend to examine an injury. “We need to find the right person to approach. If they turn around and tell Malcolm, he might hurt Prue.”

“Speaking of the devil.” Nate pointed his chin towards their approaching grandfather.

“Is Becca hurt?” Malcolm asked with what could be mistaken for genuine concern.

“No,” Becca answered. She placed her foot back on the ground. “I stepped on a pebble and my ankle rolled.”

“She’ll be fine after she ices it,” Bobby said with a feigned smile. “We should head in and elevate her leg.”

“Take Becca inside and see to her ankle.” Malcolm placed a hand on Nate’s shoulder. “Nate and I will take a walk and get better acquainted.”

A shared look of worry flashed between Bobby and Becca. Nate wondered if he was wrong. It was possible B2 shared thoughts too. He watched as they appeared to have an entire conversation in a blink of an eye.

“Icing my ankle can wait,” Becca said, straightening to her full height. “It’s feeling a lot better. We’ll walk with you.”

“Nonsense. You don’t want to further damage your ankle with needless exertion. I want to see what the son of Oliver Queen can do.”

Bobby pulled Nate behind him. “You don’t need to see Nate do anything.”

“I got to see you and Becca in action. If Oliver could teach my idiot son’s children how to fight like him, I would like to see what his real son can do.”

The muscle in Bobby’s jaw flexed. Nate almost laughed at how much Bobby was like their daddy. Malcolm didn’t understand their family at all. They were way more than what a blood test could reveal.

Bobby stepped into Malcolm and his voice rumbled like their dad’s did when he put on his mask. “Our da isn’t an idiot and we are our dads’ real children – all four of us.”

“I’m sure you’d like to believe that, but trust me, when push comes to shove, Oliver will sacrifice you. He is selfish and his love for you is a lie he tells to stay in your father’s bed.” Malcolm’s eyes blazed with anger. “He is selfish. He doesn’t care who he hurts as long as he has Tommy.”

Nate caught Bobby’s fist as he reared back to deliver a punch. They couldn’t afford for Malcolm to take his anger out on Prue. The best chance they had at keeping her safe and being reunited with her was to play along. Besides, there was nothing he’d like more than to punch Malcolm. “You want to see what our dad taught me? I’ll fight you – you can see for yourself.”

“Nate,” Bobby and Becca shouted together.

Nate stepped around his siblings to face Malcolm. “I’ll fight you - if you give us back Prue.”

“This isn’t a negotiation.”

“Fine. I won’t fight you.”

Nate could see the blow coming and he stepped to the side. Malcolm’s fist sailed past Nate’s face. Fury turned Malcolm’s face red. “If you want to hit me,” Nate said with a grin, “you’ll need to give us back Prue.” He ducked and spun as Malcolm took another swing at him. When he popped up back to his feet Nate said, “I can do this all day.”

“He can,” Bobby agreed.

Nate couldn’t help smiling at Bobby’s acknowledgment. He’d spent hours of his life evading his big brothers when they played tag or soccer. He was fast and he was really good at reading people’s body language. He could tell when someone was planning on hitting him or kicking him like Malcolm was about to. Nate bent backward into a handspring as Malcolm attempted a roundhouse kick. The frustration on Malcolm’s face made Nate laugh. “All – damn – day.”

“If you beat me, I will return Prue to you.”

“No,” Bobby held his hand out. “You’re not fighting him, he’s a child.”

“Pick on someone your own size,” Becca scowled. “Let me kick your ass.”

“They don’t think you can beat me,” Malcolm said to Nate with a smirk. “Are you as weak as your sister?”

He might be thirteen and have a short temper, but Nate was able to recognize when someone was goading him into acting against his best interest. Nate had spent his whole life dealing with the stupid stuff the paparazzi shouted at him. He needed to stay calm for his own sake as well as for his siblings. Like his therapist taught him, he acknowledged the anger on an inhale and imagined it leaving his body through his fingertips on an exhale. Nate shrugged. “I’m the baby. Aunt Thea says they’ll still treat me like a baby when I’m fifty. Doesn’t mean I can’t still kick your ass.”

“Nate,” Bobby admonished. “You’re not fighting anyone.”

Malcolm began to walk in a circle around Nate, Bobby, and Becca. “If either of you interfere, Prue will feel my wrath. Understood?” He pointed to the ground. “Sit.”

Nate smiled at his siblings. “Trust me. I’ve got this.” Bobby and Becca looked at one another before they lowered themselves to the ground.

“What happens if you beat me?” Nate hoped he sounded defiant because he didn’t feel defiant. He’d never had a real fight with a real fighter. Yes, he sparred with his family and in martial arts competitions, but he’d never tried to hurt anyone and no one ever tried to hurt him. The few scuffles he’d participated in at school or with Bobby were sloppy, anger-fueled, and usually burned out after a punch or two. He needed to stay out of Malcolm’s reach - one blow and it would probably be over. If he had any chance of defeating Malcolm, he would need to come out fast and adopt his Aunt Sara’s method of fighting. He didn’t have the brute strength of his brothers or his dad, but he’d paid attention when Sara and Nyssa gave lessons on how to fight someone bigger and stronger. He hoped Malcolm underestimated him because he was going to make him regret it.

“Beating you will be its own reward. Watching you recover from your injuries will be a bonus,” Malcolm sneered.

“Did anyone ever tell you you have anger issues?” Nate asked with a lot more bravado than he was feeling. He was under no illusions about his grandfather. He was a man who’d physically and emotionally abused his own son. The man wouldn’t hesitate to hurt him, and Nate couldn’t afford to get injured. They wouldn’t be able to escape if he got injured.

Malcolm huffed out a laugh. “I see my son’s smart mouth rubbed off on you.”

“Like father, like son,” Nate said as he easily blocked a punch, twisted and used Malcolm’s momentum to send him to the ground. When Malcolm looked at him with surprise, Nate shrugged his shoulders again. “Like fathers, like son.”

“You better hope your blows are as sharp as your tongue,” Malcolm said, rising to his feet, “or you won’t be looking so arrogant tomorrow.”

“You shouldn’t be worried about my blows or my tongue,” Nate said as he circled behind Bobby and Becca, hoping Malcolm would follow where he was leading him. He needed to get height if his plan was going to work. He’d considered using Bobby as a springboard, but he was afraid Malcolm would see that as Bobby interfering and take it out on Prue.

In an explosive burst of energy, Malcolm charged towards Nate. Nate took off at a run towards a low retaining wall that was running perpendicular to Malcolm’s direction of attack. Malcolm shifted direction and just as he was about to intercept Nate, Nate used the retaining wall to launch himself into the air. He twisted as he used Malcolm’s shoulder for further leverage and landed on Malcom’s back. Nate wrapped his legs around Malcolm’s chest and his arms around his neck and head in a choke hold. Malcolm clawed at Nate’s arms, but Nate only squeezed harder. The guards charged at them with their guns raised.

“Nate, let go,” Becca screamed as she and Bobby tried to place themselves between their little brother and the gunmen.

Malcolm dropped to his knees. “Do you yield?” Nate shouted, ignoring the men aiming for his head. He felt two taps on his arm and he immediately released his hold. He dropped to the ground behind Malcolm, his hands in the air. “We get Prue back,” he panted as Malcolm rose to his feet.

Malcolm addressed the gunmen. “Lower your guns. Escort them back to their rooms.”

“We get Prue back,” Nate shouted to Malcolm’s retreating figure. “We get Prue back.”

Nate’s heart hammered in his chest and his blood thundered in his ears. He fell back as his adrenalin level crashed. He’d gotten the best of Malcolm Merlyn, the monster of Starling. If they were able to pay off some of the guards, they would be able to take Malcolm and escape – as soon as Nate’s hands stopped shaking.

Becca and Bobby were instantly kneeling by his side. “Are you okay?” Becca asked as Bobby’s fingers found his pulse.

“That was some maneuver,” Bobby said with pride. “Who taught you that?”

“That’s an Aunt Sara specialty,” Becca said with a big smile. “She’d be really proud of you.”

“It was really stupid,” Bobby said, helping Nate to sit up. “He could’ve killed you.”

“He didn’t and we’re getting Prue back.” Something shiny by his knee caught Nate’s eye. It was a coin. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a coin. They were taken out of circulation when he was still in elementary school. He wondered if it had fallen from Malcolm’s pocket. The coin might have sentimental value. He slipped the coin into his pocket. Nate grunted as Bobby and Becca pulled him to his feet.

“I don’t think good old grandpa is a man of his word.” Bobby wrapped his arm around Nate’s shoulders and pulled him against his side. “That was a really brave thing you did for her. If Malcolm doesn’t hold up his end of the bargain, it’s not your fault. You did everything you could – you beat him.”

“Let’s go,” the head guard said, waving his rifle at them.

Nate’s legs felt like gelatin and he had to lean against Bobby to stay on his feet. Fighting Malcolm had definitely been stupid but, if they were reunited with Prue, he would reserve the right to tell anyone who’d listen that Bobby wasn’t the only genius kid in the family.

As they rounded the house towards the front door, the guards nearly collided with the woman Becca and Nate had seen running on the beach. “Wait a moment,” she instructed the guards.

The woman approached Nate, Bobby, and Becca. She was tall, slim, and appeared to be the same age as their parents. Nate thought she looked familiar, but she was like a word trapped on the tip of his tongue. He knew who she was, but at the same time he couldn’t remember who she was.

She huffed out a small laugh and ran the back of her index fingers down the sides of Bobby and Nate’s faces. “You look just like them when they were your age.”

“You know our dads?” Nate asked. If she knew their parents, then he’d been right and he did recognize her. He wished Prue was there, she would probably recognize her. She was good at filling in his gaps.

The woman quickly removed her hands and backed away from them. “Get them out of my sight.”

Once they were back inside, they were escorted back to their room. Nate was disappointed that Prue wasn’t waiting for them.

“Who wants to take the first shower?” Bobby asked, pulling his fleece over his head.

“Seriously?” Becca asked. “You don’t want to talk about what just happened?”

“With the woman?” Nate asked. “Did you recognize her?”

“You didn’t?” Becca asked with shock.

“She looked familiar,” Bobby admitted, “but I couldn’t place her.”

“Same,” Nate said. “Who is she?”

“Men,” Becca said under her breath. “You literally can’t recognize a relative when she literally touches you on the face.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Your kudos and comments are what keep me writing and are always appreciated.
> 
> I hope this update finds everyone well. As the old blessing/curse goes, may you live in interesting times. 
> 
> Any guesses as to who the woman on the beach is?
> 
> Come say hi to me on tumblr. I'm always happy to answer questions about this verse or anything else Arrow. http://realityisoverrated-fic.tumblr.com


	4. Becca

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and the kids are developing theories about their kidnapper and why they were taken.

The look of relief and hope on Felicity and Tommy's faces almost had Oliver believing they could have the kids home by dinner, but learning his kids were on another earth wasn't the news Oliver had been hoping for. Another earth was far preferable to death, but the look on Cisco's face told him it might be just as final.

“What haven’t you said?” Barry asked Cisco.

Cisco sighed and ran his hands through his closely cropped hair. Oliver felt ancient as he looked at his friend and wondered when he'd gotten old. Gone were the ironic graphic t-shirts and shoulder length curls, they’d been replaced by tactical gear and a military haircut. There was a part of Oliver that longed for the time when they’d all been young and had only a responsibility to justice. Now they all had obligations to their families and to each other. Life was much more complicated than Oliver had ever imagined it would be.

“I can't open a portal on the earth I think they are,” Cisco said apologetically.

“How is that possible?” Kara asked. She held up her wrist that bore the portal device Cisco had made for her when they first learned of multiple earth so many years ago. “If you know the frequency ...”

“I know the frequency, but the portal isn't opening when I knock.” Cisco looked to Barry. Someone might have done what we did to stop Zoom.”

Oliver tried to remember back to the start of the Flash’s career, and one of his first villains. He vaguely remembered his friends had tried to seal the breaches to keep Zoom from returning, but Oliver had been present when Barry had defeated Zoom – on their earth. “That didn't work, right?”

“It was only a temporary solution,” Cisco admitted, “but Vibe has never tried to do it.”

“You think your doppelganger has sealed that earth?” Bruce asked without looking up from his computer display.

“They either have someone with my abilities or they've created a device to mimic them. Either way, we're not breaching tonight.”

Ray clapped his hands and then began rubbing them together. “This sounds like a job for the nerds.”

Oliver wanted to be annoyed by Ray's giddy excitement over a puzzle to solve, but he couldn't be angry at his friend who always managed to come through for his family. Solving the breach problem was necessary if he was going to bring his children home, and the best chance of solving the problem resided with Ray, Cisco, Felicity, Barry, and William putting their giant brains together.

Sara's hand landed on Oliver shoulder as a gentle reminder that he was amongst friends. “While the nerds do their thing, the rest of us should get some sleep. As soon as we can breach, we're going for my nieces and nephews,” she said.

“We still don't know who took Oliver's kids or why,” Bruce said, finally looking up from his tablet. “We need to plan for what happens after we breach. Knowing who we’re facing will help this rescue be successful.”

Oliver locked eyes with Sara and she gave a small shrug. “There’s only one person I can think of who has breached multiple times and would have any interest in my kids - Black Siren.” The name was like poison on Oliver's tongue. He hated knowing there were universes where his behaviors had helped shape a good woman into a villain.

“Who?” Kara asked.

“My sister,” Sara said, “or her doppelganger.”

“Laurel?” Kara asked with disbelief.

“Turns out my big sister is a bad guy on other earths,” Sara said trying to sound blasé. It was evident it pained her that the sister she missed was alive, well, and evil on other earths. “But not so bad she'd hurt your kids.”

Oliver wanted to believe that, but every encounter he’d had with every version of Black Siren told him she was unpredictable. “The blood stains in my kitchen say otherwise.”

“She's a thief - and yes she's a murderer, but she's never hurt a kid before - remember what she did when Bobby was a baby.”

“Has she kidnapped the children before?” Kara asked with equal parts disbelief and horror.

“No, she was robbing a bank when Tommy and Bobby were there. She let everyone go when she saw Bobby - she didn't want him to get hurt,” Sara explained to an eager audience.

“She's got a soft spot for Merlyn ,” Bruce said distractedly. “Some things are universal truths.”

“What?” Oliver asked with surprise. As far as he knew, Bruce had never met Laurel.

“You, Merlyn and, Laurel Lance - same dance, different place. Every universe her love for you turns to hate and every universe she has a soft spot for Merlyn – both Lance sisters do.”

Oliver wanted to lash out. His Laurel didn't die hating him. She'd forgiven him. Tommy would never have built a life with him if Laurel had died hating him.

“If a Laurel has them, that's good news,” Sara said with certainty. “She won’t hurt them.”

“When we breach, Merlyn is coming with us,” Bruce said with finality. He looked at Oliver and his eyes softened. “He might be able to end this without violence.”

Oliver nodded but his thoughts drifted as his friends made arrangements around him. Black Siren wouldn't take the kids unless she wanted or needed something. They were bargaining chips to her. She would have made demands by now. It didn't make sense. They should have heard from her by now. This felt too personal to be orchestrated by Black Siren, but if it wasn’t her, he had no idea who would take his kids.

It felt like Becca's blood was bubbling beneath her skin. They had another bit of the puzzle and only needed to snap it into place to understand what was happening around them. Her brain whirled with the possibilities. She rushed to the window to see if she could spot the woman again.

She was often amazed by how obtuse her brothers could be. Yes, the woman was much older than the last picture ever taken of her, but she was still recognizable. What was more alarming to her was how there were now two people who were known to be dead walking around and talking to them.

“Becca,” Bobby said firmly.

“What?” Becca asked, embarrassed that she’d been caught not paying attention.

“Who is that woman?” Nate asked eagerly. “You said that we’re related?”

Before she could answer, their door opened, and Prue stepped inside. All thoughts of their supposedly dead relatives left her head as she rushed to hug her sister.

Becca slowly tuned out Nate’s retelling of his defeat of Malcolm. Something didn’t sit right with her the more she thought about it.

“Are you okay?” Bobby asked. When she arched a brow, he explained, “You’re rubbing your chest. Are you in pain?”

Becca looked at the spot she was rubbing and realized what was bothering her. “Daddy spent his first Christmas at home in the hospital. He was attacked by the Dark Archer – Malcolm. Uncle John said that when he first met daddy, he was the best fighter he’d ever faced – fast, smart, lethal.”

Bobby nodded, “Yeah, the Hood was brutal but he was also an excellent tactician.”

“And yet, Malcolm put him in the hospital.”

“Yeah.”

Becca placed her hand on Bobby’s chest on the same spot she’d just been rubbing on herself. “What scar does daddy have here?”

“It’s an arrow wound,” Prue said.

“A self-inflicted arrow wound,” Bobby clarified, his eyes growing wider.

“It was the only way daddy was able to beat Malcolm,” Becca said.

“It was too easy,” Bobby mumbled.

“Yes,” Becca agreed. “Nate fought brilliantly, but it was too easy. A young, healthy Malcolm shouldn’t be easily defeated. A Malcolm trained by the League of Assassins, should’ve recognized Nate’s fighting strategy. Time travel. Lazarus pits. This Malcolm doesn’t make any sense.”

“He asked a lot of questions about da – like he didn’t know him,” Prue said hesitantly.

Becca’s brain spun as she tried to make sense of the information they had. The answer had to be right in front of them. “The woman running by the ocean…”

“You saw her too?” Prue asked excitedly.

“Did you recognize her?” Becca wanted someone else to confirm that who she saw was real.

“She was too far away for me to see her face,” Prue said apologetically.

“You recognized her,” Bobby said to Becca.

“Yes,” all three of her siblings stared at her, “but you’re going to think I’m crazy.”

“Like we don’t already,” Bobby teased.

“The woman is Aunt Laurel,” Becca said.

Bobby staggered away and sat on the edge of his bed, his head lowered into his hands.

Prue shook her head, “That’s not possible. Aunt Laurel died during the Undertaking.”

“People thought Malcolm died that night too.” Becca removed her ponytail holder and ran her fingers through her hair. “What if not quite dead Malcolm retrieved Aunt Laurel’s body and put her in a Lazarus pit?”

“Why would she stay away this long? Why would she let grandpa and Aunt Sara believe she was dead all this time?” Nate asked.

“She was dating da when she died. What if when she came back she discovered that da was dating daddy and mom?”

“It would’ve been awkward,” Nate said.

“She would’ve seen it as the past repeating itself,” Bobby said.

“Because of daddy and da?” Prue asked innocently. “They didn’t date until daddy came back.”

“You don’t have to date to have sex,” Becca said.

“Becca,” Bobby hissed.

“What?” Becca asked. “They’re not babies. Our dads have sex and they had sex when daddy was dating Aunt Laurel.”

Prue shook her head. “No, they wouldn’t do that.”

Becca looked at the twins and thought they’d never looked so young. She ran her hand along Prue’s braid. “You’ve never done a search on our parents?”

“No,” she said quietly, “they asked us not to.”

Becca looked to Bobby for direction. He uselessly shrugged. “Before the Gambit, daddy was…”

“A bit wild,” Prue offered. “I know that. He said that he liked to party, and he drank too much – same with da.”

“When he dated Aunt Laurel, he cheated on her – a lot. Mostly with da and Aunt Sara.”

The blood drained from Prue’s face and she swallowed heavily. “Aunt Sara?” she asked weakly.

“Prue?” Becca couldn’t believe her sister’s naivete. “Aunt Sara was on the Gambit with daddy and grandpa when it sank.”

“I know she was,” Prue shouted, “but she’s his friend – his best friend after mom and da.”

“Aunt Sara likes girls,” Nate mumbled.

Becca did her best not to roll her eyes. “Yes, Nate, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t like boys too.”

“Poor Aunt Laurel,” Nate said.

“I don’t understand,” Prue said, tears running down her face. “Daddy would never do something like that. Why?”

Becca didn’t have any answers for her sister. It was a wound she’d never had the heart to poke at. “I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him when we see him.”

Bobby knelt beside Prue and turned her to face him. He tugged on Nate’s hand until he was next to their sister. “Da and daddy did a lot of things they’re not proud of when they were my age. They didn’t have parents like them to teach them how to love themselves or how to make good decisions. If they were here, they’d tell you that they made mistakes with Aunt Laurel and that they are very sorry for how they hurt her. They would also tell you that they learned from their mistakes and those lessons shaped them into the dads we know and love.”

“So, Aunt Laurel had Malcolm kidnap us to punish our dads?” Prue asked, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand.

“That would explain why there aren’t any pictures of Mia and Scott. Aunt Laurel wouldn’t care about them.” Nate said.

“Why would Malcolm help Aunt Laurel?” Prue asked.

Bobby mumbled something unintelligible under his breath.

“What?” Nate asked.

Bobby rushed for the bathroom, gesturing for them to follow. He turned on the shower and sink before closing the door behind them. “I’m sure all the rooms have microphones,” he whispered.

Bobby sat on the edge of the tub and Becca sat beside him. Nate and Prue knelt next to the tub and all four siblings put their heads together.

“We can all agree that Malcolm doesn’t fight as well as we would expect from the stories we grew up hearing.” Bobby waited for everyone to agree before he continued. “He doesn’t know a lot about da. Even taking into account that he was a terrible father, he should know more than he does.”

“He was curious about da – asking questions like he’s a stranger,” Prue confirmed.

“Could be a side effect of the Pit,” Becca said. “Psychosis, memory loss, thirst for violence – these are all known side effects.”

“That’s fair. Maybe he doesn’t remember da because of the Pit, but if that were the case, why would he be angry with him? Why kidnap us?” Bobby closed his eyes. “He doesn’t look like Malcolm. I mean he looks like Malcolm the way da and I look like Malcolm.”

Becca laced her fingers with Bobby’s and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. She understood how much that admission cost him. She would never understand her brothers and their weird hang ups about their paternity. Not only did Becca not care who her biological dad was, she’d never been remotely curious. The difference between Becca and Prue from their brothers was when they said they were both their dads and biology was irrelevant, only Becca and Prue really meant it. “He looks more like you than he does like Malcolm.”

“Do you think she was pregnant when she died during the Undertaking?” Nate asked, a blush spreading from his neck to the tip of his ears.

“No, he’d only be twenty-six if he’d been born after the Undertaking. He looks older than that to me – closer to William’s age,” Bobby said.

“Thirty-one isn’t that much older than twenty-six. William still gets carded,” Becca countered. “Although, would a fetus survive a dip in a Lazarus pit?”

“You think he’s our brother?” Prue asked with a wobble in her voice. “If he’s our brother, he should just tell us. We would love him as much as William – as much as each other. He didn’t need to kidnap us.”

“Do you think da knows about him?” Nate asked, hurt clear in his voice.

“First. We don’t know that he’s our brother. Second. Do you honestly think da would know he had another child and not smother him with love too?” Becca asked. She knew her siblings knew the answer to that question. It would be impossible for Tommy Merlyn to know he had another child and not have a relationship with that child.

“Yeah, okay,” Nate said sheepishly.

“Poor da.” Prue began to sob.

“Hey.” Bobby lifted Prue onto his lap and her thin arms wrapped around him. He rubbed her back and whispered soothing words against the top of her head.

“I want to go home,” Prue cried into Bobby’s chest.

“Soon, I promise.” Bobby held out an arm and Nate joined their embrace.

Brother or not, Becca was done with his games.

An hour later, Prue and Nate were asleep on one of the beds. Becca leaned against the window, staring at the ocean and trying to make sense of the possibility that they’d been kidnapped by their dead aunt and unknown brother.

Bobby emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered and changed into clean clothes. “It’s all yours.”

She nodded but didn’t move. “How old were you the first time you googled mom and dads?”

Bobby ran a hand over his smoothly shaved chin. “Nine, I think. I had just learned about fertilization and I realized they both couldn’t be my dad. I asked Google who my dad was.”

Becca winced. “Who did it say?”

“Who do you think?”

Just when she thought she couldn’t hate the tabloid press more, she thought of her big brother typing that question into Google and having his nine-year-old heart broken and she hated them more. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been hard.”

“It was scary. I thought if I asked, I would lose daddy.”

“Daddy loves you. There is no way you’d lose him if you asked the question.”

“I know that now, but at nine – I was afraid. I saw classmates with divorced parents and sucky custody arrangements. Why would daddy need me if he had William?”

Bobby’s revelation was more shocking to her than the possibility of their kidnapper being their brother. “That’s ridiculous. Daddy doesn’t love William more than us.”

“William’s more like daddy.”

“William is more like mom,” Becca teased.

Bobby snorted. “True.”

“Daddy looks at you and he sees the two people he loves most,” Becca said as she studied her brother’s face. Their da was easily recognizable in the color of his eyes, his chin, and dimples, but their mom was there in the shape of his eyes, his nose, and the contour of his face.

“Same could be the same for you,” Bobby said, knocking his shoulder into hers.

“Was that the only thing you ever googled?”

He sighed as he shifted to lean against the window to face her. “No, of course not. It’s hard to be their kid and not look. None of my other friends got chased by the paparazzi. They had to be interested in us for reasons other than us being rich.”

“So, you were nine when you learned about the affairs, the drinking, the drugs?”

“Probably. It didn’t make sense then. I understood the biology of sex, but I didn’t understand sex – you know what I mean? Same with drugs and alcohol.”

Becca did understand. Sex. Desire. Betrayal. Those were things she was just beginning to understand. She hadn’t understood sexual desire the first time she’d read a tabloid headline about her dad when he was a teen.

“How old were you when you googled mom and dads?”

“Seven,” Becca said sadly.

“Seven?”

“Westminster Preparatory.” She named the exclusive private school she’d attended briefly in the second grade.

“Ah,” Bobby said. “Rich assholes were gossiping about them?”

“Yeah, they were saying lots of things about dads and Aunt Laurel.” Becca shrugged. “I found a lot of naked pictures of dads.” She was still haunted by an image of her da after the Gambit sank. She’d never seen someone look so sad, scared or alone. Her hatred of the paparazzi was as much about that one photograph as it was about how much they tormented her and her siblings. “It kept me from searching again until I was in the 7th grade.”

“I’m sorry,” Bobby said.

“Why, you didn’t do anything wrong?”

“Maybe not, but I should’ve asked you before now. I know how it felt learning about all that stuff and processing it on my own. Lonely.”

“I thought they knew,” Becca said, looking at the sleeping twins. Prue’s head was on Nate’s shoulder and the fingers of their right hands were entwined. As close as she felt to Bobby and the twins, she sometimes envied the bond the twins shared. She didn’t imagine there were any secrets between them. “They’re thirteen. How could they not have googled them by now?”

“Prue’s got enough to worry about without worrying about old tabloid stories about our dads and Nate wouldn’t voluntarily read anything, no matter how curious he is,” Bobby said seriously.

“We need to do better,” Becca said, not quite sure what she meant. “With you out of the house, me getting ready to leave for college… We need to communicate more about this stuff. No one else in the world understands what our lives are like.”

“You’re right. Once we’re home, we’re going to do better,” Bobby said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

“I miss them,” Becca confessed in a whisper. She would give anything to hear her dads make lame jokes and her mom discuss whatever new tech thing she was excited about. “Why haven’t they come yet?”

“I miss them too.” Bobby held her tighter. “They’ll be here soon.”

Movement along the horizon caught Becca’s eye. A lone sailboat stood out against the slate gray of the ocean and sky. She tapped the glass, drawing Bobby’s eye to the horizon. “Can we send a signal?”

“Open the shades all the way,” Bobby said as he crossed the room to the light switch.

“Is it dark enough?” Becca asked as she opened the curtains wide. It was overcast, but by no means dark.

Bobby flicked the lights on and off as he spelled out “S.O.S.” in Morris Code. “I hope so.”

Becca watched the sailboat and her heart leapt as the boat began to tack towards shore. “It worked. It’s heading this way.”

“What’s going on?” Nate asked sleepily.

“A boat,” Becca said excitedly. “It’s coming this way.”

“Is that safe?” Prue asked, sitting up. “There are a lot of guards here.”

Becca felt terrible for her selfishness. She saw the same look on Bobby’s face. “She’s right. Those people could get hurt if they come here.”

Bobby changed the pattern of the lights. Becca focused on the lights as Bobby spelled out, “D-A-N-G-E-R G-E-T H-E-L-P.”

Becca watched with dismay as the boat continued to approach them. “It’s not working. Tell them to go away.”

Bobby cycled through a series of messages, but the boat continued to approach.

“Maybe they were always coming this way and can’t see the messages,” Prue said nervously. “Maybe it’s more guards.”

“Stop.” Nate said sharply as he pointedly looked at Prue. “If the boat is Malcolm’s and they see us signaling…”

Bobby immediately stopped flicking the light switch.

“Oh,” Prue gasped as she pressed both hands to the glass.

“What is it?” Bobby asked as he ran across the room to the windows.

A familiar wooden hull cut through the surf and came about to catch the wind. “It’s the Sunnybrook,” they all said together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read. All comments and kudos are welcome and appreciated. 
> 
> For those of you who guessed Laurel, you were right. :-)
> 
> I am officially ready to invoke the mercy rule to end 2020 early. Wake me when it's over. I was without power for almost a week due to a tropical storm that took out lots of trees and power lines. 2020 should be a vigilante - it sure knows how to exact revenge.
> 
> I hope all of you and your families are safe and well wherever you are.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Your kudos and comments are what keep me writing and are always appreciated.
> 
> I hope this installment finds all of you well and safe in whatever corner of the globe you are hunkered down. I am sheltering in place with my dogs. One seems very happy I'm home for infinite belly rubs, the other is happy that she can demand snacks all day. I fear we will all come out of this pudgier than we went into it. I was hoping to find the silver lining in this nightmare scenario we're all living through in my writing. Unfortunately, my hind brain is completely obsessed with toilet paper and eggs. I'm unable to concentrate on anything for longer than a few minutes before I begin to wonder about grocery lists and if I'll be able to get frozen pizza. The bears that keep strolling through my yard haven't helped my stress levels. My two dogs normally spend lots of time in our yard while I'm on work calls, but now I'm too worried to leave them out unsupervised. All of this means I haven't done nearly as much writing as I'd hoped. 
> 
> I am grateful to all of the helpers in this world - medical professionals, grocery and pharmacy employees, and everyone who is working hard at keeping our supply chains up and running. They are risking their lives for the rest of us. My gratitude feels inadequate. If you are reading this and you are someone who leaves their home everyday in order to help someone else, thank you. 
> 
> For those of you who are sheltering in place with your abusers, I think about you every day. Please be as safe as you can be and remember that help is out there when you are ready. You are stronger than you've ever imagined. You can call The National Domestic Hotline at 1−800−799−7233, or text LOVEIS to 22522, or chat online thehotline.org
> 
> Come say hi to me on tumblr. I'm always happy to answer questions about this verse or anything else Arrow. http://realityisoverrated-fic.tumblr.com


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